A What?

Following on from Robyn's vocabulary, quiz, here's one that I found both hilarious and depressing.

It was so obviously written by Americans.

You Are a Liberal for Life

You've got a bleeding heart - and you're proud of it. For you, liberal means being compassionate, pro-government, and anti-business. You believe in equality for every person, and you consider yourself universally empathetic. Helping others is not just political for you ... it's very personal too.

What's Your Political Persuasion?

A liberal for life?

Fuck off!

I am a Marxist!
A tried and true Socialist, way off to the left of Class War.
Even the most "liberal" American is so far to the right of what passes for right wing over here that I can't see the fuckers with a telescope.

And for a country that laughably claims to separate church and state, a whole bunch of the questions were about bible-bashing.
Total twaddle.

Hey ho.

Now I'm annoyed. Can't people write a proper quiz?

Another Bunch Of Arse

Thanks to Robyn for this.

These stupid quizzes really annoy me, especially this one as Robyn knew full well I wouldn't be able to resist it …
Rats … I'm Mister Predictable.

Your Vocabulary Score: A

Congratulations on your multifarious vocabulary! You must be quite an erudite person.

How's Your Vocabulary?

Stupid damned quizzes.

Vibies Are A Girl's Best Friend

Okay, so we got a little off-message toward the end of yesterday's comments and we wound up discussing vibies.

Guys: vibies are vibrators.
And if you're so sad and self-deluded that you think your wife or girlfriend "doesn't need one 'cos she has ME", then I - along with all the girls - point and laugh at you. She just keeps it hid because she knows you are so inadequate it would hurt your feelings.
My last girlfriend kept hers on the corner of the bath for the world to see, and I never had a problem with that. Indeed it came in really handy when I got a trapped nerve in my shoulder.

Girls need fun too. Don't get hung up about it.

So anyway; getting back to yesterday's comments:
Time for Dive to set a little meme-ette.
A quiz for the girls:

- What's the best sort?

- What colour is yours (and why)?

- Does hubby/boyfriend/girlfriend (Hi, Vic) know?

- Does hubby/boyfriend/girlfriend care?

- Does yours have a pet name (be honest), or is it just "the vibie"?

- At least one humorous (and true) tale involving your (or a friend's) vibie.

Go to it girls.
And remember: hubby/boyfriend/girlfriend doesn't read this blog so you can be honest … and, as you well know, I am not in the least bit prurient.
Enjoy.

What Is All This Crap?

I did that stupid "Visual DNA" quiz thing that Sassy and Robyn have done.
Only Blogger told me there was an error in the html so I can't post it.
Well bugger Blogger, bugger "Visual DNA" and bugger html with a splintered gatepost.

If anybody is remotely interested in what the quiz results said about me, I'll paraphrase them for you:
I am a fat, ugly, balding, extremely overtired and irritable forty-eight year old loser who hasn't had sex since the Boer War and isn't ever likely to again. And I hate quizzes.

Nothing we didn't already know.

Stupid fucking quiz.

Michael Jackson? Oh, Fuck

Sorry to cop out and post another stupid quiz, but I'm going to be out at Wimbledon shouting at builders for most of today, so I've no time to think of anything postable:

In 1958 (the year you were born)

Dwight Eisenhower is president of the US The first US earth satellite, Explorer I, goes into orbit Rocker Jerry Lee Lewis marries his 13 year old second cousin, Myra Brown The "Quiz Show Scandals" rock the television industry and the nation Vice President Richard Nixon faces hostile anti-American mobs during a visit to South America 14 year old Bobby Fischer wins the United States Chess Championship Ellen DeGeneres, Michael Jackson, Ice-T, and Mark Cuban are born New York Yankees win the World Series Baltimore Colts win the NFL championship Montreal Canadiens win the Stanley Cup Breakfast at Tiffany's by Truman Capote is published Elvis Presley enters the U.S. Army

What Happened the Year You Were Born?

Michael Jackson?
Ice T??
I don't know who Mark Cuban is, but Madonna was also born that year.

All in all a pretty bad year for the planet, then …

Yaay for Truman Capote, anyhoo. I love Breakfast at Tiffany's, and Philip Seymour Hoffman rocked as Capote last year.

Merde! Je Suis Français!

Got this from Vic's splendid site:

Your Inner European is French!

Smart and sophisticated. You have the best of everything - at least, *you* think so.

Who's Your Inner European?

I know I've been feeling a bit arty and farty and smart and sophisticated just lately, but I'd put it down to the relative stupidity of the rest of the planet.

Mind you, when I come to think about it, I drink sooo much coffee and eat loads of garlic and swear a lot and drive a tiny shiny black zoomy car and I hate America (blogpals and Mr. Obama excepted).
Ergo, I must be French.

Merde!

Exits with a Gallic shrug of the shoulders …

More Timewasting

You can blame Sassy for this one.
She did Robyn's two, then did "What's Your Celtic Horoscope" …

Anyone who knows me knows that however gorgeous and seemingly intelligent a girl is, if she asks me what "star sign" I am, she'll never be bothered by me again (I can hear Sassy typing the question already) …

So I'm not going to do that one … alright, I did it … apparently I'm a Chestnut Tree …



I thought I'd do the "How American Are You" quiz instead.
And now I'm REALLY pissed off! Somebody tell me where the hell that seven percent came from ? Eh? I answered honestly; there should be a big fat zero up there …

Bah!

Stop it, Robyn*

Arrrgh …

Robyn's done it again. Another silly quiz. That's two in one day!

And they both go to prove that I'm an obsessive pedant.
Oh, well. Thank you, Robyn. I think my obsessive pedantry is pretty obvious anyway. In fact I'm kind of proud of it. And somewhat disappointed they didn't ask any difficult questions.

* If I were not such an obsessive pedant, I would have put a smiley emoticon here, but as I've previously told folk that they're welcome to shoot me in the head if I ever used one, then I'd better not …

Book Snob

Thanks to Robyn for dragging me back into the world of silly surveys.

This one is actually pretty accurate, although I'd rate myself MUCH higher on the book snob scale.
And why is there no section for obsessive fetishists who have their favourite bookbinders lovingly craft custom bindings for their books? (My bookbinders love me) …

They're also right when they say that "other people's grammatical mistakes make me insane"; in my case, psychopathically insane.
When I was a toddler, my mum gave up her job at the printers (where all her side of the family worked - a clue there, perhaps) and worked at home as a proofreader. She sat me on her knee and taught me to read, proofreading things like accountancy textbooks and really dull stuff, so that when I started school they had to send me down to the town library a couple of times a week to get decent "grown up" books to read.
I'm known to several blogs on my bookmark list as "the Mad Proofreader" for my intemperate outbursts and lists of corrections. So watch out! It could spread to my blogpal list …

This Is Carlton Your Doorman

A bit of light relief after yesterday's wonderfully stimulating religious education debate with Robyn.

Indeed, thanks yet again to Robyn for pointing me at this silly accent quiz.


I cannot do a Noo Yawk accent to save my life, but it seems the quiz thinks that's the closest to my Norfolk/London Brit accent.

Actually, I used to do a good Julie Kavner as Brenda, yelling "Rhoda", but that's about my limit.

I loved that show back in the seventies. Lorenzo Music (great name) drawling "Hello, this is Carlton, your doorman" cracked me up every time. And of course, the magnificent Ms. Kavner is still with us, voicing the sexiest woman on TV.

Judging from my test result, I should be able to converse intelligibly with Sassy and Rich and the rest of the New England Posse, though I have no idea (being Brit) what a New England accent sounds like. Perhaps we should all type in our vernacular (although this would make our Scottish friend utterly incomprehensible).

My favourite accent of all (even more than "Minnesota Nice") is the one Eddie Izzard does in his James Bond sketch, where the guy's accent-changing voicebox is stuck on shop demo. A drunken party favourite down our way. "Ah, Meester Burnd".

Comments in your vernacular, please.

Tagged By Old Knudsen

Oh, arse! A bloody meme …

Thanks for nothing, Old Man.

I hate these things.
For the record, this is the most piss-poor excuse for a meme I've ever come across. Uninspiring, tedious questions which deserve nothing more than the vitriol heaped on them by Old K and now myself.

Okay; let's get sweary …


1-Do you like the look and the contents of your blog?

What a fucking stupid question.
If I didn't like the look of it, I'd change it, and if I didn't like the content, I wouldn't write all this crap in the first place.
Tosser.


2-Does your family know about your blog?

Yes. But like Old K, they couldn't give a monkey's.


3-Can you tell your friends about your blog? Do you consider it a private thing?

I consider solo masturbation a private thing … oh, and puffin frottage.
If I'm masturbating with my friends, then it's not so private.
And I use the blog to spout off about stuff. What good would it be if no bugger read it?


4-Do you just read the blogs of those who comment on your blog? or you try to discover new blogs?

Of course I do. And I'm constantly trying to find new blogs from desperately lonely women who live just down the road from me. Preferably ones with poor eyesight and low self esteem. No luck so far …


5-Did your blog positively affect your mind? Give an example.

Only to the extent that my friends don't have to put up with my ranting any more. I can rant at strangers, which is nicely therapeutic.


6-What does the number of visitors to your blog mean? Do you use a traffic counter?

I couldn't give a toss.


7-Did you imagine how other bloggers look like?

I try not to but the bastards keep posting photos of themselves. And if I see another fucking baby blog, I'm going Godzilla on this stinking planet.


8-Do you think blogging has any real benefit?

No. The time I waste blogging could be more constructively used looking at porn.


9-Do you think that the blogosphere is a stand alone community separated from the real world.

No. It's a "Sit Alone" community of sad wankers who cannot face the real world.


10-Do some political blogs scare you? Do you avoid them?

No. Religious blogs and those with fucking babies all over them scare me. Stop breeding, you ignorant fuckers. The world cannot possibly feed your snivelling, ugly children.


11-Do you think that criticizing your blog is useful?

Not to me. Criticize all you want; I couldn't give a toss.


12-Have you ever thought about what would happen to your blog in case you died?

No. Why should I care? No offense to some of my American readers, but there is no God and no afterlife. When you're dead, you're dead.


13-Which blogger had the greatest impression on you?

Robyn. She's the person I'd most like as a neighbour. And - other than this meme - I tend to moderate my swearing a bit for her.


14-Which blogger do you think is the most similar to you?

Lonesome, lefty and cynical? That would be Sassy (sorry, gal).


15-Name a song you want to listen to?

Prayer to God by Shellac. The sweariest song about breaking up. Ever. If I had to choose a personal deity, it would be Steve Albini.


Well, that was the crappiest and most boring meme I've ever seen.
It doesn't deserve to be passed on to anyone else, so the only person I'll tag is the sad, miserable waste of oxygen who came up with it in the first place, together with a slap round the head for wasting my time.

Kermit

Thanks, Old K.

Another fucking survey …
This time, it's "What Tarot Card Am I"?
Frankly, my dear, I don't give a toss, but I'll give it a go, if only for the excuse to think about Jane Seymour as Solitaire in Live And Let Die … Mmmmmmmmmm …

So it turns out I'm Kermit the Hermit.
Whatever …

Looks a bit like the picture from inside the old Led Zep IV gatefold sleeve, so I'll take that as an omen and listen to Zep all day today.

No more fucking surveys.

Please.

Oh, For Goodness Sake

Thanks (or possibly not) to "Deliberate Gentle Sex Master" Sassy with her "Dirty Little Secret" for getting me involved in this one …

Go do the test yourselves. If there's any "Maid Of Honour"s or "Sonnets" out there, run screaming because apparently we're compatible.
This is just soooo wrong …

Apparently I "thrive in small groups of smart people" … Hey, I hang around with drummers!

"Not exactly the life and soul of the party" … I'm ALWAYS the life and soul of the party; because I'm the twat up there on stage making the party go bang.

And "slow dancer"? … I dance like your dad, only worse.

And if I had a "Tight circle of friends" just like those described above, I'd shoot myself. All my friends (bar one) are musicians or artists and probably the most antisocial bunch of cynical curmudgeons you're ever likely to meet (and thank God for that).

For your information, I like a woman with attitude; strong, smart, funny, independent and lefty. Drippy just doesn't cut it.

And apparently my "love life improves every year" … Not this year, you bastards.

Surveys? What a bunch of toss!

I decided to skip their Politics test for fear I might break it.